Sixty Seconds
by Lucifer's Garden
Summary: Sometimes pretending can just be as painful as facing the truth.


**A/N: All characters belong to JK Rowling.**

**Short, weird, very dark DMHG one shot – post HBP, no real spoilers. Let your imaginations fill in the blanks.**

* * *

_Five minutes, Malfoy._

"I know," he deadpanned, and the Auror – he couldn't remember the man's name – left the room. It was quiet for a moment. Just the two of them, alone for the first time since she arrived earlier that evening to wait with him. She watched him, perched awkwardly on the little wooden stool, and he stared down at the floor between his knees. He hadn't slept in days . . . and by all appearances, she hadn't either.

"I . . . I wish there was more I could do," she said suddenly, fiercely. "I tried so hard, Draco, really I did. Those _bastards_ . . . they just won't listen."

Why was she getting into this now?

But he tried to smile anyway, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall. "It was hopeless from the beginning, Granger. They wouldn't have believed me, even if I tried." He could not believe how calm his voice sounded. In another time, in another place, he probably could have laughed the whole thing. If someone had told him two years ago that Mudblood Granger would be trying to defend him in a court of magical law, he would have been either very amused or disgusted.

"It's not fair."

There was something different in her voice this time. Something that made him look at her, and see the tears flowing freely.

"Why are you here?" he asked. He had meant to earlier, but it didn't seem right until now. "Why did you come, Granger?"

She sniffled and looked away, staring intently at the cold ashes of the hearth. The fire had gone out ages ago. "I'm not sure. I guess . . . I guess I figured that I've done so much already, come this far - I might as well see it through."

He could only nod. Nod, and avoid saying what he felt he should have said. _I'm glad you did._

_Four minutes._

Neither of them responded to the Auror calling from behind the door.

"It just isn't fair," Granger continued, hiccupping slightly. "Why won't they listen to me? Why are they doing this to you?"

The tightness in his chest was traveling up to his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but it only intensified. "They need to blame someone, Granger. Hermione. It just happens to be me this time, that's all."

"But you didn't _do anything!_" she cried, and he couldn't deny that he was surprised by her passion. "Harry saw you lower your wand . . . he _saw_ you . . ."

For a heartbeat their eyes met and held. He let her in – let her see the things nobody else had ever been allowed to see. He let her see the fear, the exhaustion, the despair. He had always been able to see hers. She never bothered to hide it the way he did.

_Three minutes._

"You didn't have to give up," she replied, shaking her head slowly. He could see her getting frantic, and wished she wouldn't. "Not this way. All you had to do was testify, Draco, and maybe they would have spared you. Everyone knows that what they're doing is wrong. If you had just-"

"Hermione, I'm going to have my soul sucked out of my body in three minutes," he cut in wearily. "I'd rather not be scolded until then."

She fell silent.

_Two minutes._

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I . . . I could really use a friend right now."

She was still crying, he noted, but the tears seemed to slow down for a moment. He felt something sting the back of his eyes and tried to blink it away.

"And . . ." he continued, somehow speaking around the lump in his throat. "And you wouldn't really have to . . . doesn't have to mean anything, of course . . . the whole thing is nonsense . . . but . . ."

He could sense her waiting on his words, her breath still.

"I . . . I just need someone for a while. It's been so long."

He was crying now. It had all come flooding out before he had time to stop it, and suddenly it seemed useless to hide it or push it back.

Realization and – something else? – dawned on her, and a second later she was on the ground next to him, wrapping her arms around him. At first he had gone rigid, instinctively alarmed at the feel of someone else touching him (no one had done that for him in years), but after a moment he let himself relax. She was warm, so warm, and he hadn't realized how cold his cell was. He forgot what a woman smelled like, and it was all coming back in a rush of clarity. He sighed and laid his head on her breast, his arms around her waist, sprawled almost all the way across her lap.

He was not the kind of person who sobbed and wailed while crying. Lessons from childhood taught him to keep it quiet and discreet. But he could not stop himself from trembling, occasionally shuddering with the effort to keep his wails silent, and the tears were pouring out so hard and fast that he couldn't see anything

Suddenly he didn't want to let go. It was not his time yet. Impossible. It _couldn't _be.

_Sixty seconds._

"I'm not ready." What a useless thing to say. So much for going out with dignity. "I can't go like this . . ."

She squeezed her eyes shut, and he felt her tears land in his hair. "It's okay . . . hush, Draco . . . it'll all be okay."

"Hermione, not now, not like this – you were right, this isn't fair – "

"Draco, I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_. It's too late."

"But . . . they're just going to suck it right out of me. Just like that, and I'll be gone. Everything that makes me, _me_. That's not right – why do they do such things? I'm not a killer."

"I know that."

"I'm not a killer, Hermione, you know that. I didn't hurt anyone, I couldn't . . . I just stood there, and Dumbledore was . . . he . . ."

"Please, just lie still."

"I would never –"

The door opened.

"_No_ . . ."

A group of men came filtering into the room. She tightened her hold on him, and for one foolish moment he allowed himself the faintest spark of hope. She would protect him. She would keep them away. Nobody could touch him as long as she was there.

"A favour . . . quickly."

The men hesitated, lowering their wands uncertainly.

"Anything." She did not pay them any mind, her eyes focused entirely on him. They were a world away.

"Just . . . I don't know, something." _Something to stop that goddamn clock._

Was he already losing his mind? He could feel her heart racing against the side of his head and waited for her reaction. When her hand suddenly shifted, moving under his chin and forcing him to look up at her, he became paralyzed.

"Anything," she said again, her breath making one of her stray curls flutter.

She swooped down and kissed him, softly but earnestly, and he simply froze. He didn't think he had any heart left that could skip a beat or pound wildly, yet when they simultaneously deepened the kiss he felt his veins ignite. He reached a hand up to rest on the back of her neck, gently pulling her down closer– they would never be close enough, he realized. It was never enough.

_Skin is such a nuisance . . . why must it separate us?_

Then she let go.

"Hermione, wait – "

"Goodbye, Draco," she choked, looking away from him.

"_Wait!_"

They hauled him upright, his toes barely touching the ground, and he began thrashing wildly.

"Hermione, please . . . don't let them take me, I don't want to die, I'm not ready – "

He stopped struggling, and a cold, numbing weight settled in his chest.

She was done fighting for him.

She was done pretending.

_Time's up._


End file.
